


Fall Seven Times

by Sann



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate History, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Anxiety, Cinnamon Roll Katsuki Yuuri, Confident Katsuki Yuuri, Developing Friendships, Family Fluff, Gen, Growing Up, Ice Skating, Katsuki Yuuri on a mission, Multi, Not Canon Compliant, Prodigy Katsuki Yuuri, Professional athletes, Social Media, The power of friendship, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-11
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2020-04-24 17:44:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19178269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sann/pseuds/Sann
Summary: Katsuki Yuuri has fallen more than seven times, more than eight, has felt the harsh embrace of unyielding ice. He’s always gotten back up, until one day he doesn’t. Except he does. Somehow. He is eight when he rises again, burning so brightly he sets the sky ablaze in his wake.





	1. 0.1

**2000 - Nagoya**

“Who’s that?” Arai Marie looked up at her coach, eyebrows furrowed. Her arm was outstretched, pointing at the rink. 

Iragawa Kisaki looked up from his bento, thoughtfully prepared by his wife earlier that morning. It was with half a mouthful of broccoli that he saw what his pupil was pointing at. The 2000-2001 JSF Novice National Championship was well underway, and he knew Marie’s brother was third to go. This was not, however, Marie’s brother.

The triple sal was the end of what had to be a flawless jump sequence that he only barely got to process. The landing on the outside edge was smooth, the way he swung his other leg around equally on point. The triple loop he swung in straight afterwards was landed just as solidly, the outside edge of his take-off foot. A clean jump, almost scarily so. Marie clapped from where she sat next to him, and the few spectators left did so too. With the crowd made up of mostly parents and relatives and the oddly enthusiastic scout, Kisaki paid them little mind. Instead, his eyes tracked the tiny skater transition into a camel spin, then change directions after a full five rotations and spinning again. He remained in place well enough and his form was picture-perfect. 

“He’s good though.” His pupil mused, fingers tapping her chin. “Better than Kai. He’s only planned a double-double combination for his short program, I think. And Kai’s eleven already, this one can’t be older than ten and he’s throwing triples around.”

Kisaki nodded. His best had been a bronze ages ago at a qualifier for the GPF, but even he spotted talent when it shone as brightly as this boy did. He didn’t envy the judges, because he couldn’t tell what piece the kid was skating to and how his movements matched the music. The technical merit and required element scores had to be high, based off skill alone. But his presentation in combination with his music? He had no idea. All he could see were his moves, gliding across the ice as if he’d been born on it. Good posture, great flow and smooth, certain movements. A natural. 

“Good, but very risky. Sticking to doubles is safer, his execution is good enough that it should guarentee him a spot on the podium anyway." He turned back to rink, focussing on the skater below.

The kid’s step sequence was serpentine, flowing in the familiar serpentine pattern from one corner of the rink to the other, then back the opposite way. He finished it off with a double loop, followed moments later by another triple jump. A toe, this time. He broke his ending pose and skated to where an older woman was loudly cheering, too loudly in fact. She was all but jumping up and down when she lifted him straight off the ice and into her exuberant embrace. A mother-son team, he guessed. They were often more enthusiastic than the usual coach-pupil pairs. Marie would likely freak out if he ever did that, thus he was all too glad to refrain from it. 

He watched the pair go off to the kiss and cry, the screens in the stadium left on even for the novice section. It let him get a closer look, taking in the boy’s chubby cheeks and wide eyes. He is young, Marie was right. Though the woman was too different to be his mother though, he noticed. Pretty and slender, her face was vaguely familiar in that way that made him feel way too old suddenly. His wife would know who she was, she was good at things like that.

The marks came in and Kisaki whistled. Those were high and he doubted it’d be bested. Novice wasn’t a division he coached in, sticking exclusively to juniors instead, but most junior competitions did sometimes coincide with the novice ones and he’d caught the tail end of their start or beginning here and there. Every now and then he’d even pay some attention to their award ceremony. He knew their average level and this was _good_ for a free skate at that age. The kid had set the bar and he’d set it very high indeed.

He did finally have a name to put to that face though. Katsuri Yuuri, age eight. It didn’t mean anything, some kids burned brightly and faded before even making senior. That didn’t detract from this performance though, it remained stellar. So, he clapped along with the audience once more, the boy deserved it. 

The next day, he checked his e-mail and found one from Marie. Kai had come in seventh, Katsuri Yuuri snatched first.

* * *

**2000-2001 Junior Championship shows great promise for the future**

**Nagoya November 30, 2000**

Tanaka Jiro

With the 2000/2001 Junior Championship over, the winners show that the future of Japanese figure skating is bright. With Tanaka Soshi skating a marvelous short program and an equally well performed free skate, his first place in the Junior division is well-deserved. With Kishimoto Kazumi at second place and Nakaniwa Kensuke winning bronze, all three showed incredibly solid skills in both their programs. 

The ladies’ division ended with Nakano Yukari winning thanks to a stunning free skate, showing off her flexibility in a set that flowed well with her song of choice, a composition from the movie 10 Things I Hate About You. Competition for silver was fierce, with twelve-year old Advanced Novice champion Ando Miko nearly besting her senior, Suzuki Akiko. In the end, Miko-san won bronze and Suzuki-san silver. This won’t be the last we hear from Miko-san, who outperformed competitors many times her age to win silver.

A special shout out to boy’s Advanced Novice champion Kozuka Takahiko who placed eighteenth out of twenty-seven and showed off some great jumps and would have placed higher if he hadn’t touched the ice after his axel. In the Intermediate Novice Championship, eight-year old Katsuri Yuuri wowed the audience with his free skate, earning him the first place. He successfully landed not only a triple salchow - double axel combination but also a triple toe-loop, uncommon in his division and almost unheard of in his age bracket.

* * *

Okukawa Minako resisted the urge to squeal loudly when the announcer called Yuuri’s points. He’d schooled her in advance on which numbers were bad, good and great. While her Yuuri-chan was obviously the best, hearing another echo her thoughts fulfilled a deep, dark urge of her she’d rather not voice aloud. Her cute little student had done so well, the youngest in his bracket and still outclassing them all. His form, his elegance-

She squeezed him closer to her chest, waving at the camera and lifting Yuuri’s hand to make him do the same. So shy, her student, when he should be showing off his joy! The camera showing them off to the audience made it all feel so official, so much more like the competitions she’d begun watching after little Yuuri asked her to become his coach. The kiss and cry had been described in the helpful pile of books she’d ordered from around the world, with tips added on how skater and coach had to conduct themselves. But all that flew out of her mind faster than she could spin her own pirouettes when she heard the score.

 _Her Yuuri_ did that! And she helped him! His grace, the flow of his movements. All of it due to ballet, her own greatest love. She’d even been able to help choreograph the piece, though Yuuri had been awfully stubborn on the technical requirements and insisted on doing his triple jumps for the Championship. Stubborn boy. The steps were all hers though, devised in the long after-school afternoons spent in her studio with the two of them dancing to his piano piece. It showcases his flexibility and he’d practiced until they were as smooth as the ice he skated on.

So dedicated, her little skater. She resisted the urge to squeeze his cheeks, but only barely. He’d scowl with those puffy cheeks of his and she doubted the audience could handle the sight of it. With the score known, she made Yuuri wave once more before their time in the kiss and cry was over.

“Cooldown time, Yuuri-can!” She sing-songed, steering her student by the shoulders back down to the backstage area. “Can’t hurt those muscles now, chop-chop!”

Yuuri was too cute, doing as he was told. Once his skates were off, he was following her in the cooldown stretches they’d come up with. She waved at some of the parents and coaches of kid’s they’d run into at the Qualifiers earlier in the season, their kids still busy getting ready for their programs.

“You’re so lucky you get to go first,” she said to Yuuri. “In a bit we’ll get to see all the others skate, won’t that be fun?”

Chubby cheeks puffed out into a frown, though Minako would rather call it a pout. The boy could huff and puff all he wanted, but he was too much like a puppy to make it work.  
  
“I always go first, Minako-sense. It’s a curse.” Another huff. “I’d like to go last one day.”

Minako poked his forehead with her index-finger, enjoying the way Yuuri’s brown eyes widened and he flushed. “Pssh, silly boy. You like going first because then you can watch the others, because you _like_ watching. And you love how I always let you have a snack.”

Her smile turned into a smirk when Yuuri’s eyes blazed up at her. So small, he’d need at least another ten years to make that glower work. Though she didn’t like the strict diet the skating guides prescribed, especially during the season, she knew firsthand the importance of maintaining your body's fitness. That’s how she ended up going shopping with Yuuri’s mother, schooling the older woman on what her son could and couldn’t ( _shouldn’t_ ) eat. Lists and meal plans were involved, as well as advice on how to help his bedtime work with the demands of school and training. They’d been accepting, as they’d been of all the demands Yuuri’s passion put on the Katsuki family. Yuuri too had been surprisingly passive when she had to tell him that he couldn’t eat his favorites as often anymore. There'd been some tears, but in the end he'd shown surprising maturity when he told her how he understood. 

A rustle at her elbow told her that he was done cooling down, already dressed in his warm post-skating jacket. He’d put his sweatpants on over the thin fabric of his costume’s pants and his skates were already back in their special backpack. He smiled up at her, brightly.

“I’m ready, Minako-sensei.”

“Yes!” She beamed down at him, then snatched the bag from his hands. “Let me have that. Now, what do you say about getting some edamame for while we watch? I think they sold that in the lobby. And if you get first place again, we’ll go out for dinner on the way home. How does that sound?”

Yuuri’s smile widened. “That sounds amazing, Minako-sensei! Thank you!”

“Yes!” She beamed down at him, then snatched the bag from his hands. “Let me have that. Now, what do you say about getting some edamame for while we watch? I think they sold that in the lobby. And if you get first place again, we’ll go out for dinner on the way home. How does that sound?”

Yuuri’s smile widened. “That sounds amazing, Minako-sensei! Thank you!”

They each ate a bowl of edamame while watching the other competitors skate. Yuuri was mumbling next to her, glasses on, commenting on their performances.

“That landing went wrong, Minako-sensei. Look, he landed on the wrong edge.”

He winced when a boy went sprawling onto the ice. “His form was already wrong there, on entering the spin. That must hurt.” 

“I like this one. He skates with his heart, do you see?” His eyes sparkled when he glanced up at her, pointing at the boy skating on the rink below. 

Sometimes he’d hum along to the music, some of them pieces they’d danced to in her studio or songs he considered for his own programs. He liked music, she noted. So, after his first win with her as his coach she’d splurged on getting him a Walkman. It was a cassette one, the CD-Walkman too bulky to fit in his warm-up gear with ease, and he’d loved it. There were times she had to wave him down because he couldn’t hear her over the sound of his tapes. Silly boy. He pretended he couldn’t hear her every so often too, until she threatened to ban katsudon from his house _forever_ in return. Boys thought with their stomachs after all and her threat worked wonders.

Seeing Yuuri stand proudly on his platform, some hours later, made her feel both pride and unease coiling low in her stomach. Even on the top tier, a gold medal hanging from his neck, he looked so unfathomably young there. The silver and bronze medalists were taller than him, even from their lower positions on the podium. He was the youngest though, by far. She’d read about this, about the strain that performing at a high level could have on a child’s body and mind. She didn’t want to see him hurt. Not now, not ever.

He smiled up at her, so small in his tracksuit. Minako waved back exuberantly, trying to put as much joy and love and support in the motion as she could. He was her little skater boy, at danger of getting adrift on the rough waves of his own success. But she’d be his anchor, his rock and his lighthouse. She’d fight tooth and nail to keep him in love with his passion and never let it drag him down.

* * *

Her phone rung near two weeks later, while watching Yuuri training on the ice. The number was unknown, so she pressed the call button on her Nokia and answered.

“Hello?" 

_“Good afternoon. Am I speaking to Okukawa Minako?”_

She stated her confirmation, then turned away from the noise coming from the rink a bit to better hear the man on the other end of the line. A few short minutes later, she turned to face her student. Her cheeks hurt from the grin she tried and failed to contain. She waved him down and he slowly skated over to her. 

“Guess what?”

Yuuri blinked. “What?”

“You’ve been selected for the 2001 Youth Development Summer Camp!” She squealed. “You get to go, Yuuri. Isn’t that amazing?”

Brown eyes widened, then Yuuri’s face turned pensive. “That’s weird. Don’t I have to be nine for that. I’ll still be eight that summer.” 

Minako nodded, tapping her chin. “Yes, but they made an exception for you. There was a talent scout at the Championship, and you impressed him. They really want you to come.”

Yuuri’s face grew even more distant at her words, an expression she couldn’t place dancing across his eyes before vanishing. “I don’t think my parents can pay for that. It’s in Nobeyama, Minako-sensei. That would be too expensive. I shouldn’t go, I don’t need it.”

She could hear the words he left unsaid. He didn’t need it, but he _wanted_ it. Going to Nobeyama was something she’d heard about from the parents and coaches at the rinks they’d been to. A hundred kids every summer, invitation only. Skating lessons by famous skaters, tips and tricks and hopefully a chance to bond with people that shared his love for the ice. If he wanted it, then she wanted it _for him_.

“Minako-sensei,” Yuuri stressed. “I don’t have to go. I’m doing fine, you’re a great coach and I don’t need a summer camp. I have you and Yuuko-chan to practice with already. It’s enough.”

Her little skating student (and that never made her not feel weird thinking it) was getting too grown up all out of the sudden. He shouldn’t be thinking or even worrying about money. Not at his age.

“Yuuri-chan, let the adults worry about money, yes?” She winked at him, enjoying his deadpan stare in response.

To see a boy usually so shy dare and disagree with her was surprising in itself, but Yuuri? He was staring up at her, eyes ablaze, the headset from his Walkman dangling from the collar of his jacket where he’d hidden the chord behind. Her mind flashed to her Benoise de la Danse, to the prize money she’d received with it. She’d spent little of it, living in the accommodation provided by the ballet and instead had seen the large figure grow with every sold-out performance in the years following it. After settling in Hasestsu she’d spent a bit of it on purchasing her studio and the apartment that came with it, relishing in not needing to apply for a mortgage. Now, she’d been thinking of investing in another business, one she could lose herself in for the days that few students were around. Those slow, lazy days bothered her as much as a sloppy arabesque. The perks of a rigorous schedule growing up, she reasoned. Growing used to long, grueling schedules made her take to empty hours rather badly. 

She glanced back down, Yuuri was still focused on her face. Waiting. Her mind had been on a bar of some kind, perhaps even one selling food. A little café or a snack bar. But now. Her mouth pursed of its own accord, brows drawing together in a frown.

 _Now_ she was so busy that she’d all but forgotten about that plan. Her spare time was already filled with looking for books on skating, watching others perform and trying to be the best figure skating coach a former ballerina could be for a boy so dear to her. The few hours she wasn’t busy training her own dancing students were spent bundled up and watching Yuuri skate from the side of the rink. His parents paid her, they insisted on it, but she wasn’t hurting for money.

“What’s your dream, Yuuri?”

The boy stopped fiddling with the headset of his music player and brown eyes met hers. He blinked, once, twice, then smiled at her. It was a warm smile, one that made his cheeks stretch and his lines appear next to his eyes. 

“I want to be the best figure skater in the world, Minako-sensei. I want everyone to see how much I love being on the ice.”

Eight years old, Minako reminded herself. He was only eight years old. His cheeks were chubby and his limbs short and stocky in that way kids were, but in that moment he had somehow transformed. Not a boy, not a man. Something else. It wasn’t his eyes, despite them being called windows to the soul. No, she thought, it had to be his mere presence. Standing on the ice with his flushed face and determined, high-pitched voice. She couldn’t stop smiling back.

“Let’s work hard together to make that dream a reality, yes?” She clapped her hands. “You’re going to Nobeyama and learn and _have fun_. I won’t take no for an answer, Yuuri-chan!”

* * *

**2001 - Nobeyama**

“I’m Katsuki Yuuri. Please take care of me.” The kid said, bowing at the waist sharply before straightening back up. It didn’t help, he was still short.

Satoshi Jun snorted at the thought. As one of the instructors in charge of training the kids chosen for the 2001 camp, he’d seen most of the kids already and every single one of them was short in his eyes. This one was the youngest though, lagging behind a good six months compared to the second-youngest they’d invited this round. He’d been dropped off by an older woman with brown hair who’d been pretty in a stern way, which was offset by the warm fussing he’d witnessed as she carried the kid’s luggage to his room. There were only ten kids that were nine (or younger, in Yuuri-kun’s case) and the other fifty were on the other end of their nine-trough-twelve admission bracket. But the nine-and-younger cohort was all his for the next four days, so Yuuri-kun was both his pupil and his charge.

He smiled. “It’s nice to meet you, Yuuri-kun. My name is Satoshi Jun, I’ll be taking care of you and your new rinkmates for the oncoming days. You can call me Jun-sensei. Let’s have fun and learn together.”

Yuuri nodded. “Yes, Jun-sensei. Thank you.”

“Let’s show you around the complex, yes? Let me know if you have any questions, please don’t hesitate to ask.” Jun offered his hand to the boy, but Yuuri ignored it in favor of walking next to him. The sight made him sigh softly, they were all trying so hard to be grown up at that age.

They meandered through the hallway that had the rooms for the nine-year-old group, pointing out that his rinkmates would sleep there. In front of a red door, similar to all others, he made them stop.

“See the number on it?” He asked Yuuri. “It’s number one. This is my room. The door is always open if you need anything or if you’re homesick.” 

Another solemn nod came from the boy at his elbow. Ah, so cute.

“Now, let’s show you the last few spots before we meet the rest, shall we? You’re the last to arrive, Yuuri-kun, so you lucked out on getting the private tour!”

Jun managed to wring out a small smile out of the kid with that. The others had been more nervous, giggling uncontrollably or so tight-lipped he wasn’t sure they were still breathing. Maybe it was his age, he mused. How much did he know about the reason behind this camp, about the hidden pressure the older kids undoubtedly picked up on? The older groups knew for sure, had maybe even come more often and knew this was the JSF’s way of spotting talent early. But Yuuri-kun and his agemates? He wanted to know, but part of him also really didn’t. This were kids still playing with dolls and drawing with crayons in their spare time, despite their talent.

The little booklet he had on each of his charges did mention that Yuuri had skipped one or two grades already though, so he might be smart and perceptive enough to pick up on how some of the audience at the rink did nothing but watch them skate.

On the road to the little lounge room he’d left the nine other kids in, accompanied by his co-trainer of course, he pointed out the kitchen and dining room.

“We have breakfast here at seven and dinner and lunch after practice. You’re free to take snacks if you want to, though leave some of the cookies for the rest of us.” He steered them to the last room in their hallway, making a grand sweeping gesture with his arm. “And here we have the lounge. This is where we’ll relax and every day after lunch we’ll go over some skating tips here. Doesn’t that sound fun?”

Another nod. “It does, Jun-sensei.”

Well, the kid got points for trying but he was lacking a bit in enthusiasm. Ah, well. Those were probably the nerves talking. He led him into the room, seeing Hana-san playing some elaborate clapping game with the two girls in their group. The seven other boys were scattered throughout, lounging on couches and chairs and keeping busy with a variety of things from books to GameBoys. He even spotted one, Takashi-kun, with a GameBoy Advance.

“Good afternoon kids, this is Katsuki Yuuri-kun. He is the last addition to our little group, so say hello everyone!”

They did and Jun made them go in a circle to introduce themselves. Once everyone was done, he turned to Hana-san. 

“This is Hana-sensei, Yuuri-kun. She is the other instructor in charge of our group, and you can also go to her if you need anything. Do you remember room number two? That is her room and the same rule applies.”

* * *

The Nobeyama Skating Centre was filled with little kids crisscrossing over the ice. For easier overview, they’d handed out little armbands for them to wear based on which age group they were in ever since that first camp where day featured several ‘missing’ kids. Jun’s little herd got red, as always, and it allowed him to easily keep track of those he considered his own.

A few sharp claps of his hands easily drew their attention, even with how they were ooh-ing and aah-ing over the rink. It wasn’t before long that they had all dutifully assembled in front him in a semi-circle. A headcount showed he had all ten.

“Okay everyone, today we’re going to have our very first practice. But first, who can tell me the house rules again?”

Most of his charges raised their hands and Jun wordlessly nodded to Takashi to start.

“We have to share the ice with the other kids, and each keep out of each other’s way,” he began. “If you say stop, we stop. No jumps without you or Hana-sensei present and no laughing when someone falls even when it’s a funny fall.”

Jun nodded. “Very good, Takashi-kun.” He smiled, then clapped his hands again. “Now, let’s get started!”

He had them work on their step sequence, Hana and him skating from one to other as they gave tips and corrected moves when necessary. After helping one of the girls with her choctaw, he turned and saw Hana wave him over. 

“Watch.” Was all she said once he got there, pointing to the further edges of the section their group had ‘claimed’ on the ice.

He followed her finger to one of their kids, red armband fulfilling its purpose, and a quick scan made him realize it was their youngest pupil. Yuuri hadn’t really showed up on his radar. But now-

It was almost as if he couldn’t look away from the deceptive ease with which the eight-year-old transitioned from his twizzle into a ballet jump. Once landed, he turned straight into a loop that he finished off with a few running steps. Whether Yuuri knew they were watching or not, he suddenly met their eyes and smiled. Jun just nodded back and from the corner of his eyes he could see Hana offer the boy a thumbs-up.

His colleague turned back to him, brushing a lock of her fringe away from her eyes. Hana nodded slightly in the direction of the stands. “Sato-san has been watching closely, hasn’t he?”

The old man sitting on the stiff plastic chairs had been unusually focused on their group for the past hour. His greying side-part was as distinctive as his JSF suit jacket, something Jun’s friends joked he’d probably slept in too, despite having seen Nobuo Sato in more comfortable clothes when on the ice himself.

On the ice, Yuuri followed up his waltz jump with a graceful choctaw before adding a loop after that. His landing on the small jump was clean again and his posture good. Some of the kids had paused their own exercise to watch, he noticed. 

From the corner of his eye he could see Miki-chan skate over and not before long Yuuri repeated his little sequence, Miki watching closely. He went through the motions slowly, exaggeratedly, while the taller girl observed. Jun saw him glance back carefully, eyes a bit wide, to where he was leaning against the padded barrier, Hana already back to helping one of the kids. He could see the look for what he thought it was and nodded back at the kid, smiling. Yuuri-kun was doing something nice in helping his rinkmate, he wasn’t going to storm over and stop that.

Miki-chan’s own waltz jumps were decent already, but Yuuri’s word seemed to have had some influence because he could see a marked difference in her next few attempts. They were not nearly perfect, but they were better still. With one last look at the stands, Sato-san was leaning forward on with his elbows resting on his knees, Jun went back to his cohort. Time to get them back on track.

* * *

The meeting room smelled of rain. Despite most of them having shed their soggy coats and hung them to dry on the other side of the room, the dampness permeated the air and left it stuffy and wet. It didn’t deter from the purpose of the meeting, though it was slightly annoying. 

Okamura Shou was tired and grumpy, having flown in from Chicago only a day before camp started. It’d left him with a jet-lag and an ache in his back that would only go away after several days sleeping in his own bed. Airplane seats were not made for comfort, nor were the chairs in this room for that matter.

“Are we all in agreement about Kawasaki Momoko?” Minoru-san asked. He’d written the name on the board under the Ladies category. Ito-san had argued in her favor, as had some of the others and girls’ instructors. Though Shou hadn’t seen the child skate, the other’s reviews were favorable, and he felt comfortable in giving his assent.

It was Sato-san who offered up the next skater. “Katsuki Yuuri should be on the board as well.”

“Isn’t he this year’s exceptional entry?” Nanabi-san stapled her fingers together, frowning at Sato. “He’s only eight, isn’t he?”

Satonodded. “Almost nine. He’s landing jumps the twelve-year-olds can’t even perform consistently. His technique is quite solid, despite having heard that he has a former ballerina coaching him rather than a skater. That does explain his flexibility and grace, which is above the curve even for most advanced Novices and some Juniors.”

“He won last season’s intermediate Novice championship, right?” Shou piped in, looking at the papers he’d found on the boy. There wasn’t much. “With triples?”

Another nod from the aging man at sitting on the other end of the table. Sato might be getting on there with age, but he was sharp-eyed when it came to talent.

“Can he last, though?” Minoru interjected. “Some burn brightly but never make it to Seniors, let alone win anything at Junior events. With his age he could peak in time for the 2010 Games in Vancouver or perhaps the ones in 2014. But that means he has to keep up his growth and keep showing the same promise.”

Nanabi glanced at Minoru, then at Sato Nobuo. “Let’s show our interest in the boy then, let the family know we’re watching his progress with a keen eye. He’s eligible for the intermediate championship again this season and the advanced one the next. If he wins his next intermediate, we’ll invite him back for the 2002 camp and reevaluate. If he manages to pull through and even just place for the advanced final, that should be enough of a sign that he’s growing. He’s eight. In the best-case scenario, he’s ten when he joins the advanced group and then he’s skating against kids up to five years his senior. How old was the 2000/2001 advanced champion again?”

“Eleven,” Shou supplied. “Though very close to twelve.”

From where he was seated, Shou could clearly see Mizushima-san scribbling on his notepad, not saying a word. It was the first he’d seen the old bear move since the start of the meeting. He was up to something, that was a given. Nanabi met his eyes from across the table and Shou only offered her the barest of shrugs. He wasn’t sure what the old man was up to either.

“Let’s move on to the next name on our list,” Minoru-san called. He’d stood up again, whiteboard marker in his hand as he moved towards the board and started writing.

* * *

Miki was only nine, but she knew true love when she saw it. Yuuri-kun was a little younger than her, but that didn’t really matter that much. He was nice and funny, and he could skate better than she could but wasn’t mean about it. Mommy had always told her that if she was nice to people then they would like her back so obviously the best wat to make Yuuri-kun love her was to be the nicest to him _ever_.

“Yuuri-kun!” She tugged on his hand to get his attention. “Yuuri-kun!”

But he wasn’t responding, instead staring at the older boy that was helping some of the twelve-year olds with their spins. Some foreign skater she didn’t know that well.

“I’m sorry Miki-chan,” Yuuri said, turning to her. His big brown eyes blinked up at her and she tried to stop from squealing. “I’m going over there for a bit, okay? I’ll be right back.”

She watched him skate off, blinking at his retreating back. He seemed to talk to the other boy. After what had to be a few minutes, Yuuri bowed before skating back. He was smiling, broad enough to make Miki pause. It looked good on him, she decided. She’d have to make him smile like that too, as often as she could. She was smart enough to know that that smile wasn’t for her, but her heart still felt warmer after basking in its glow.

“Who was he, Yuuri-kun?” She demanded, pulling him back to ‘their’ corner of the rink under the watchful eyes of Yun-sensei and Hana-sensei. 

His broad grin shrunk a bit, turning into a fond smile instead. “Someone I look up to a lot, Miki-chan. Shall we go back to skating?”

Satisfied, Miki nodded. Just an idol then, that she could deal with. She followed him, only letting go of his hand when he offered to show her a double toe _and_ explain how to better land it. Watching him skate was almost as good as watching him smile but somehow, she’d rather have him smile at her. When he skated, he lit up like a softly glowing lantern at a festival. When he smiled, she reckoned, he'd light up a _room._ When he landed and turned back to her Miki made sure to clap enthusiastically, just to see him flush and smile again.

“You’re so good, Yuuri-kun! Show me again, please?”

He did, smiling all the while, and somehow that was even better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After this, it is back to plotting out Deathless with my beta. She read this though, with her unending grace and patience, and thought it was nice so guess what: you get to read it too. 
> 
> 1\. With the exception of the coach and reporter, all names are of skaters that participated in and won the 2000/2001 Junior Championship in Japan. The only edit is that I changed the dates to make it coincide with Yuuri's birthday. For plot reasons.  
> 2\. The Benoise de la Danse comes with 1 million USD cash prize.  
> 3\. I'm making the assumption that Minako got to live and travel for free when dancing with "unspecified European Ballet" and was a popular ballerina (otherwise she wouldn't have won the Benoise de la Danse) and thus made *some* money  
> 4\. The Youth Camp is a thing, hosted in Nobeyama (at least in the early 2000's, according to my research). I'm making the assumption that it is invite only, a sleep-away camp and that it costs a not insignificant amount of money to attend.  
> 5\. Before 2002, a six-point scoring system was used and skaters were ranked relative to one another. Doing challenging jumps like quads wasn't as highly rewarded back then, the focus being on landing clean jumps. So Yuuri is most definitely showing off and being risky as a novice landing triples.  
> 6\. Stephen Gogolev was 10 when he was landing triple axels and a first quad, so I'm assuming it is possible for Yuuri to land triples at eight.  
> 7\. Most of the coaches mentioned are/were coaches, at least according to Wikipedia. Some other names mentioned are OC's.
> 
>  
> 
> I skate myself, as a hobby, though I basically only really do mock speedskating because I'm more a fast than agile skater. I have watched some figure skating and enjoyed it, but have never attempted it myself. Most of my figure skating information comes from various recourses on the internet. Also, keep in mind that I basically take some liberties with skating as a whole to make it fit with the plot.


	2. 0.2

 

**August 2001**

Mari didn’t mind the extra chores that came with her brother’s quest to become quote-the greatest skater ever-unquote. It’s fine, really. She told her parents that dozens of times, had to reassure her little brother almost daily of the fact, and then went back to sweeping floors after school and cleaning out the pools while Yuuri was off to skate. Either practice, competitions or what he calls cross-training but really is just dancing lessons and riding his bike, mostly. 

So, yes. She loved that her brother had something he could pour his heart and soul in. Something he loved in a way that transcended boundaries, that exceeded even the space in his chest where his heart resided. Just-

Some days he’d spend long stretches of time in his room and she’d have to pick him up and carry him out. He might be eight, but she was sixteen and strong after helping out her parents since forever. His eyes would red and his face splotchy, something he’d hide in the fabric of her jinbei.

“What’s up, Yuuri?” She asked, depositing him on one of the cushions surrounding the low table in their living room. A few seconds later she was out in the kitchen, pouring him a glass of water while listening for any sounds that could mean her little brother was trying to sneak back to his room.

Yuuri was still there when she returned, setting the glass down on a coaster in front of him. “Drink up and tell your big sister what’s wrong.”

The first few gulps of water nearly went down the wrong pipe, Yuuri’s face growing even redder as he coughed and hacked. Her slaps on the back had him wincing, but eventually he breathed in a shuddering gasp.

“What if I _can’t_?”

Years of being a wise older sister had accustomed her to her brother’s peculiarities. He was smart, evidenced by being skipped up grades again and again, like she used to skip rope, and sometimes she had to set aside the nagging reminder that right now he was only a kid. That’s what she did, plopping down on a cushion herself and resting her arms behind her to support her lazy slouch. There were layers of meaning wrapped around that single phrase that went beyond her question. He wasn’t saying he couldn’t _tell_ her, he was beyond such simple statements. It made her think of that anime she’d watched, long ago.

Hidden underneath the underneath.

A snort escaped her lips. That whole one-eyed look was something she could probably pull off, though her parents would disagree. But Yuuri …

“If you can’t, then you can’t.” Mari ended up saying. “And that’s fine. And if you can?”

She lifted her shoulders once in a careless shrug. “That’s fine too. Just be you, Yuuri.” 

Mari watched him take another sip of his water, his tiny frame still shaking ever so slightly.

“I’ve never done this before, Mari-nee-chan. I don’t know, what if-” 

It was easy to cut him off, gently pressing her index finger against his forehead in a way that almost always worked. “But you have, Yuuri. You’ve done this every day since you were six, sometimes I think you’re more a stubborn little snowman that my stubborn little brother. Mom and dad don’t care if you don’t win any medals, no one does.” 

His reply was soft, but unmistakable. “ _I_ do.”

That left her without a reply. How could she tell him that it didn’t matter if he never won medals again and instead wanted to run off into the mountains and live with the birds? He was her brother, her baby brother, and all she wanted was to see him smile.

“That’s okay too.” She decided on. “As long as you remember to have fun on the ice. That’s what matters most, isn’t it? You love skating and I’m pretty sure skating loves you too.”

Leaning over the table let her ruffle his hair, already messy from when he’d been stifling his sobs in his pillow. It made him scowl up at her in that way of his and she returned his grimace with a crooked grin.

“We love you too, Yuuri. Always.” She tapped his forehead again, willing the words to sink through into that big, worried brain of his. “Want me to bike with you to the rink, let you blow off some steam?”

He always went after one of his moments and now was no exception. The silent bob of his head told her enough, so she went and gather up her stuff, slinging Yuuri’s duffel with his skating stuff over her shoulder in the process. Homework could wait for another few hours, her brother couldn’t.

* * *

Asahi-sensei watched over his sixth graders as they piled in on Monday morning, a curious mix of bright-eyed and grumbling on the first day of the week. He kept out a special eye for his smallest student. Almost nine, Katsuki Yuuri-kun had been assigned to a class with kids two to three years his senior. He’d breezed through first and second grade in a year, ending his first period of primary education in third grade in an unprecedented move for Hasetsu Elementary School. His parents and former teachers then decided to keep him from skipping any more classes afterward, despite his careless shrug when asked for his opinion. So, Asahi needn’t have worried when the older kids piled in, ruffling Yuuri’s hair and fondly asking after his ‘skating summer camp’. 

In the three years they’d been together, Asahi was pleased to see they’d huddled close around the little outsider in their midst. Despite only teaching sixth form and thus not having experienced the class for their previous years, his co-workers had gleefully shared details in the pre-school meetings at the end of the summer break.

“Watch out for Yuuko-chan,” they had warned him. “She’s fond of little Yuuri and together with Itsuki-kun they’ve formed a bit of a little protection squad. If they think you’re being unfair to him because he’s younger, they’ll come after you. Yuuko-chan is the ringleader and Yuuri-kun lets her. I kow for a fact that she badgered him into helping her skip a year so they could together.”

“Wait,” Asahi had interrupted, mind focussing on one little detail. “Come after _me_?”

Hoshiko-san had sniggered, trying and failing to cover it up with her hand. “Oh Asahi-san, they’re not worried about their classmates. Those kids are all either in awe of him for being a skater or impressed because he’s a smart cookie. No, they’re dead-set on not letting any of us treat him differently just because he’s a bit younger.”

“In PE I tried to keep him from playing dodgeball,” Miyu-san recalled. “Because he was just so much smaller than the others. I’ve never seen such a polite little protest. Everyone kept letting themselves get hit so they could sit next to him on the side-lines and then they refused to start over again until I’d promised to let Yuuri-kun play too. 

Another laugh had escaped Hoshiko-san. “Oh, I have them play dodgeball too! It’s so funny, little Yuuri is just so bad at it! I’ve seen him skate, I think we all have, and as graceful as he is on the ice-”

Both women had devolved into giggles at that, slapping the table in their mirth.

Now, though, Asahi was glad for their little warnings. He’d noticed the glares from Yuuko and Itsuki lessening with every week where he didn’t somehow diabolically single out his youngest student for some gruesome humiliation. That didn’t stop him from being surprised at the ease with which the boy flew through the course material. Even with him only doing half days, leaving when the other kids still had some classes after the lunch break, he’d never faltered in his grades. This year he’d been exempted from PE, an official letter from the JSF coupled with the polite request from his parents had seen to that, and Hoshiko-san teased him endlessly for not being able to witness ‘the disaster that is Katsuki Yuuri at a game of dodgeball’.

Not that he minded. The little monsters were devilish when they played and part of him was glad the little boy wasn’t subjected to that, despite his co-workers’ insistence that, really, Yuuri was almost always the first one ‘out’ and thus evaded the worst of the pandemonium. 

“Excited for this weekend, Yuuri-kun?” Asahi asked the boy.

At his question, Yuuri looked up from where he’d been laying out his stuff on his desk. “Sure, Asahi-sensei.”

From the seat next to his, Yuuko’s gaze shot to his. “Yuuri-kun’s going to wipe the floor with them all!”

She was quickly echoed by her partner-in-crime. Itsuki pounded his desk to add force to his enthusiasm, though he did spare Asahi a sheepish glance when the teacher raised an eyebrow at his antics.

“Now, now.” Asahi drawled. “Such energy this early in the morning. Surely you’re not this hyped up for our little math quiz?”

“No, sensei! It’s because we get to go with Yuuri-kun this time because it’s in Tokyo and Itsuki-kun has family there. They’ve got a _big_ house and even Takeshi-kun gets to come!” Yuuko was quick to explain.

Asahi hummed. “Hmm-mm. It must be nice to have so many friends with you, Yuuri-kun?”

Yuuri shrugged at that, ducking his head a bit in that way he was wont to do. “I don’t want to let anyone down, Asahi-sensei. I’ll have to work hard to make them proud.”

A true Yuuri answer if there ever was one, as he’d come to know in the short time he’d been teaching class 6A. Non-committal and with a strong undercurrent of the unwavering determination the boy showed. Another thing his colleagues had whispered about, the way the kid could be a little robot in how he’d just never stop unless asked to.

“Not that he’s impassive,” Hoshiko-san had been quick to add that afternoon. “He’s way too shy and nervous to be an actual robot. It’s just, he has a tendency to keep going? Even with schoolwork, tell him to stop after a certain exercise or he’ll go on until he’s finished. I think he gets a little lost in his head when he’s hard at work, really.” 

He’d had it happen once, the kids working independently while he reviewed some of their geography projects at his desk. Yuuri had been silently scribbling in his notebook and kept going on until their time was up. After class, Asahi had opened it and leafed through it. The kid _had_ worked ahead, as he’d been told he would, but hadn’t faltered at the material despite it never having been covered in class yet.

Ever since, he’d made sure to give Yuuri a packet of independent study work for him to do once his assignments were done.

Now, though, he just smiled while watching Yuuko aggressively try and cheer Yuuri up by swearing she was and always would be proud of him. They were good kids, this year’s sixth form, every single one of them.

* * *

Toshiya often wasn’t sure what to do with his youngest. Mari had taken after her mother, thankfully, had planted herself like a tree from the moment she’d been born. She’d weather storms and hurricanes, he was sure. Sometimes, in the deepest part of his mind where he hid the things he knew he shouldn’t say, he was glad she was simple. And oh no, not _simple_ in negative sense. He meant it with all the positivity that others often didn’t think the word capable of. His daughter wasn’t slow or boring or uncaring. She was bright and bold and very much alive, but in truth she was like a rubber ball. Mari bounced back. 

Yuuri … Yuuri he wasn’t so sure about. Minako-san had likened him to a glass figurine on one of the many evenings spent discussing his son, her pupil.

“He’s delicate,” She’d said. “Beautiful and fragile at the same time. Treat him unkindly and he’ll break. 

His wife had politely shaken her head at that, a small and oh-so familiar smile ghosting on her lips. “Yuuri-chan is just a baby bird, Minako-chan. He’s only young now and just needs us before he’ll fly off and leave the nest. All children are birds, some just stay underwing longer.

So Minako-san deemed him a little glass dancer, his wife thought Yuuri was a baby bird. Where did that leave him?

Soft sounds from the laundry room alerted him to his son’s presence. The door slid open silently and there Yuuri was, folding towels that had just been cleaned.

“Hi, dad.” Yuuri shot him a smile. “I’m almost done.”

Toshiya hummed at that, letting his eyes crinkle and lips turn up in his own version of the expression. Yuuri took after his mother, they really did share a smile. But his gaze travelled downward, to where the hem of Yuuri’s pants stopped and revealed bare, bruise-mottled feet.

He must have caught him looking, because his son’s face reddened. “I’m just letting them air a bit, practice was hard today. 

There was much he didn’t know about skating. Many more than he’d like. But that didn’t make him oblivious to the things Yuuri didn’t _want_ him to know. Mari couldn’t hide her bad grades, Yuuri couldn’t hide his discomfort in asking for things.

“You’re growing.” He stated. “And so are your feet, you need new skates.”

“I don’t, dad,” Yuuri insisted. “Practice just went on a bit long. My skates are fine. I can keep them for a little while longer, really. It’s not a problem. 

“Ah, Yuuri.” Toshiya sighed. “You’re right, it isn’t a problem. We’re getting you new skates.”

In his mind he was already changing his schedule, there were few reservations for Thursday and the drive out to the specialised store that stocked good quality skates would take a little over an hour. Though taking the train might even be faster, he thought.

His son had remained quiet after his little declaration, folding and stacking soundlessly.

“Yuuri.” He kneeled down next to him, taking the pile of towels from his hands and putting them in the cubby. “Skating makes you happy and as your parents, your mother and I want to _keep_ you happy. If that means buying skates, then we’ll buy you skates. You’re a decade too young to be worried about money and it’ll only make your hair go grey. We don’t want that now, do we?”

A moment passed before the boy in front of him solemnly nodded his head. “I don’t. But dad, skating is-”

Toshiya snorted. “No buts. Now, how about we go straight after school on Thursday?”

To him, Yuuri was just Yuuri. Unique. Delicate and strong, young but somehow wise. A worrier on solid ground yet a warrior on ice. He didn’t need to read his scorecards or listen to his teachers to know how smart his boy was, how good at math. Every day Toshiya saw it in the crease of his brow when Yuuri tried to calculate expenses and would inevitably made an attempt to mitigate them somehow. Nor did he need the sharp-suited officials telling him how driven his son was, when the evidence of Yuuri’s drive was in watercolour splotches all over his small feet.

Yuuri sighed and finally the tension in the back of Toshiya’s mind abated a little. He ruffled his kid’s hair, smiling fondly when his son tried to bat his hand away.

“ _Dad_!” 

* * *

There was a modest applause as the announcer finally called Yuuri’s name but Itsuki was pleased to hear Takeshi-kun and Yuuko-chan roaring as loudly as he did. His uncle, who had only met Yuuri the once today before he was whisked away by Okukawa-san for practice, was even waving their special banner around. 

“Go, Yuuri! Good luck!” Yuuko screeched, standing up from her seat and waving down at the rink.

Takeshi mirrored her, his own voice somehow even louder. “Kick their asses! You’ve got this!”

Down below, finally on the ice, Itsuki could see their young friend skate all the way up to the middle. He’d never been skating before himself, never seeing the appeal and much preferring soccer like his father and uncle, but he’d been dragged along to the Ice Castle often enough to learn how to appreciate the skill and artistry his friends displayed. Not that he wanted to try it himself, no way. Coach would kill him if he killed his ankles or knees by goofing around on the ice.

“Itsuki-kun,” his uncle whispered, bending down a bit towards him. “How old was your friend again? Because he’s the current champion, right?”

“Nine,” he responded. “But Yuuri-kun insists that this category isn’t so big a deal.”

From his left, Yuuko tore her eyes away from where Yuuri was taking his starting pose for a split second. “It is and it isn’t. It’s not like juniors, that’s way bigger! But it’s still super amazing that Yuuri-kun gets to skate here! He was invited to a super-special skate camp this summer too, and Minako-sensei says that the JSF has their eye on him now.”

Takeshi grunted his assent. “Yeah. Intermediate Novice isn’t super important but last year Yuuri was only eight when he won. He doesn’t get to go to Advanced Novice until he’s ten and he already skates better than those anyway.”

Uncle whistled lowly at that and the four of them turned back once the first notes of Yuuri’s music played from the sound system. Itsuki couldn’t remember the name, but Yuuri had told him how it came from a ballet (or an opera, he wasn’t sure) and though it wasn’t really his style, it was still _pretty,_ but not in a girly way. Yuuri’s skating was too, delicate and flowing in a way that made him question whether the ice was actually _ice_. He watched with wide-eyes as he saw Yuuri go from spinning in place while standing to suddenly going down and almost sitting on the ice, still spinning, before going back up, all of this without doing normal things like falling or stumbling or whatever normal people did when they tried stuff like that.

Yuuko whooped, pumping a fist in the air. “Go, Yuuri!”

The delicate piano music picked up a bit with some higher notes and Itsuki nearly choked on his swallow of bottled water when Yuuri launched himself high in the air, landing on one leg, before taking off into another jump.

Together with the audience, he held his breath, but Yuuri’s hands only touched down on the ice at his landing and within a second, he was back to his usual gliding grace once more.

“The others didn’t do two jumps in a row,” uncle whispered.

Itsuki nodded. “They didn’t.”

“They were much slower too.”

Before Itsuki could reply, Takeshi did. “They were, yeah. Yuuri is showing of for the JSF officials watching.”

The younger boy pointed at some of the lower levels of the stands where some greying men and women in more formal wear were seated.

“He didn’t show off like this for the smaller qualifiers, Minako-sensei bans him from doing most crazy jumps like that usually because she doesn’t want him to wreck his body before he’s even skating in Juniors.” His friend continued, pointing down at the rink. “So, he mostly sticks to his crazy spins and steps, because he’s really good at that anyway. Last year he landed a triple _and_ a triple combination, and he was only eight then.”

Uncle made a thoughtful noise at that. “What was that one then?”

“Triple salchow and double axel again,” both Yuuko and Takeshi chimed in simultaneously, grinning at each other. Takeshi nodded at Yuuko to go on, which she did with a proud smile. “Though he kind-of fluffed the landing on the axel a bit, but that shouldn’t hurt his scores too bad. The others aren’t even doing triples anyway, so he’s in the lead on his technical scores alone already. First place has his name written all over it, but he's still crazy nervous despite that. Somehow.”

The music had ended after Yuuri performed another of his crazy jumps on a surface not really made for jumping and slid to a graceful stop at the middle of the ice. Within seconds, the arena was clapping. Itsuki and his friends the loudest, he was proud to notice. Even uncle was whooping and waving their banner around.

Hours later, with Yuuri wearing a red chord with a small gold (“It’s not really gold, Itsuki-kun, it just looks like it”) medal dangling from it, they all piled back in his uncle’s green sedan. “Well then, where are we going for dinner?”

The four kids, rather illegally squashed in the backseat of a car meant to really only seat three, turned as one to glance at uncle’s questioning gaze in the rear-view mirror. From his seat behind her, Itsuki could see Okukawa-san’s eye-roll in the reflection of the front windshield.

“Katsudon!” They said as one, clapping hands and ruffling Yuuri’s hair.

Uncle laughed at that and put the car into gear, driving them out of the parking lot.

Once the six of them had squeezed into a side-booth of a hole-in-the-wall restaurant that mercifully served Katsudon, Itsuki turned to Yuuri. 

“You’re really, _really_ good at this, you know?” He said, taking a sip from his soda.

The younger boy turned red at that, something he often did, and Yuuko had to clap him on the back to keep him from choking. “T-thanks, Itsuki-kun. But I just practice a lot. I’m not that special.”

Hah, as if. Itsuki knew his classmate well enough to know that that wasn’t true, even without skating Yuuri was pretty special already. He had jumped through classes the same way he jumped on ice, seemlingly without effort, but he always ( _always_ ) found time to help him or Yuuko or even Takeshi with their homework. Takeshi and Yuuko had also told him how often he’d help them with their skating, and Itsuki remembered the disastrous few times Yuuri had offered his services as a goalie to let him practice his penalty kicks.

The less said about that the better, though it did help prove that the little skating-and-school-machine had his flaws too. His goalie performance went straight into the same memory box as the dodgeball games under Miyu-sensei, helpfully labelled ‘ _Times Yuuri was really, really bad at something_ ’.

But Yuuri was also good at Pokémon and without fail could help him win the Gym battles on his new Gameboy Advance even when Takeshi couldn’t, and he’d also helped him out when he had to watch his little brothers one afternoon when his parents had to go away for a bit. So, after sharing a look with Yuuko and Takeshi, they let out a collective snort.

“Please, Yuuri-kun. You always manage to guess how the next Super Sentai episode is going to go before it’s even been on TV,” Takeshi cut in. “That alone makes you special enough and you can't claim that comes from hard work.”

“What do we say when someone compliments you, Yuuri-kun?” Okukawa-san turned to them from where she’d been chatting about something boring and grown-up with his uncle, one eyebrow raised. Her eyes were piercing, Itsuki noted with some slight fear. 

Yuuri sighed. “Thanks, Itsuki-kun.”

Itsuki grinned. “You’re welcome, Blue.”

In his mind, he underlined 'Yuuri is bad at taking compliments' in his  _'Times Yuuri was really, really bad at something_ ' box. It had a lot of lines and some exclamation marks, Itsuki was also considering mentally adding glitters or something.

“Stop calling me that, Itsuki-kun. I’m not a Blue, I want to be Red.” Yuuri retorted, glaring at him from behind his glasses. 

Takeshi snorted before Itsuki could respond. “I’m already Red, Yuuri-kun. And remember, it’s either Blue or Piggy. You pick.”

That just made Yuuri sigh in that ‘why are you doing this, I’m too old for this’ way that he had, but to Itsuki it just looked like his kid brother trying and failing to act grown up. Yuuri even looked a little like Daisuke when he did that, though Daisuke didn’t rub the bridge of his nose in a dramatic fashion.

From her seat, Okukawa-san pointed an accusing finger at her student, eyes still fierce. “No dramatics during dinner, Yuuri-kun. You’re nine, not ninety. Act your age!”

Itsuki caught uncle’s eyes, eyebrows raised and gaze a bit bewildered, and just shrugged with a grin. Yuuri-kun was a bit of a weird friend to have, prone to both trying too hard and then doing a full flip and overthinking every little thing, but ever since that first day of class he’d been hooked. That was before he’d even met Yuuko, and Takeshi by association. When he thought Yuuri was a lost little duckling and Itsuki’s mother hen complex kicked in, triggered by big eyes and a small, chubby face and a litter of little brothers already his to care for. So really, what was one more to add to his brood? So he’d maybe gone a bit too far, because now he was already twelve and could reflect on his actions (and, really, he was getting _old_ and all his friends were basically babies apart from Yuuko). Back then, he fancied himself just being a nice classmate but in hindsight he’d all but forcefully adopted Yuuri and then Yuuko once she was also bumped up a grade (or rather, doggedly worked her way into their class by hard work and the sympathy of their teachers). Takeshi soon followed, a package deal with Yuuko, and within months they were all sort of codependently attached at the hip. 

Not that he minded, glad for the time spent in the cold Ice Castle and the weekends lazing around in someone’s living room watching TV or playing games. Glad for Yuuko and Takeshi and for getting to use Yuuri’s parents’ onsen whenever he was sore from soccer practice. Also, Takeshi's mom made the best snacks and Yuuko's parents had given him a scarf and mittens once they'd seen him shivering in the stands once. So, yeah. He wasn't complaining. Not at all. Even when he was dubbed Green when he'd really rather have been Red too. 

“But really,” he whispered, leaning over to Yuuri. “You _really_ were good today. Good job on winning gold again, Blue.”

The younger boy turned to him and for a second Itsuki was afraid he’d go on his usual self-depreciating tangent again, when his friend’s brown eyes softened.

“Thank you for being my friend, Itsuki-kun.” Yuuri whispered back, smiling, something heavy and meaningful in his voice.

It made him grin, which made Yuuri smile even wider, and Itsuki raised his fist. Yuuri met it, both of their hands soon twisting into their silly and childish (aka _super cool_ ) Secret Super Sentai Handshake that soon had Takeshi and Yuuko demand to join in.

Yeah, Itsuki was super glad that Yuuri was some crazy skating prodigy. It meant he’d found his best friends and even if they were all a bit younger than him and maybe a bit crazy, he wouldn’t trade them for the world.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's all sit back and watch the butterflies, shall we?
> 
> Thanks for the lovely reactions and I hope that you all enjoy this chapter too :)


	3. 0.3

**August 2002**

Minako knew stress. It’s something she’d never been proud of but having performed as a prima for longer than most dare to dream of, she’d become more acquainted with the feeling of slowly stretching thinner and thinner until one day she broke. So, she remembered the words her ballet’s director had spoken to her. Remembered his face, his soft, kind voice and the two cream-coloured cards he’d put in the palm of her hands.

The first number one the card was the she’d called that very day, meeting face-to-face in in a warm brown office mere days later. Though Harry was a fond memory now, faded with time until his face was blurry while his words remained. Ingrained in her memory were the tips he’d given her, the welcome advice and mechanisms to perform at the top of her game every single day without losing sight of herself in the process. The card, she'd kept.

It was not Harry’s number she called, eye on the clock to mind the time-gap between them. Instead, it’s the second number. They’ve spoken, once or twice a year, but now Minako needs _more_.

_“You’ve reached Lilia Baranovskaya, who is this?”_

Minako corralled her nerves, straightening her spine without even thinking about it, before she answered. “Hello, Lilia. It’s Minako Okukawa, from Japan.”

Fondness seeped into what had been an icy voice seconds before. _“Of course, Minako. Yes. How are you?”_

“I’m good and I hope you are too. But that’s not why I’m calling. Lilia, I have a student.”

_“You need advice.”_ There was no mistaking the tone, Lilia wasn’t asking. She _knew_ , as she’d somehow always had.

“ _Yes.”_ She hoped the turmoil she felt was conveyed in that one little word. Minako needed help, advice, anything Lilia could give. _Anything_ for Yuuri. She wasn’t enough, not anymore.

There was a pause, silence from the other end of the line. Lilia was waiting.

“My student, Lilia, he’s good. So, so good. He’s a skater, not a dancer, despite how long he’s been studying ballet with me. Then I have the JSF calling almost weekly, inviting him to competitions and asking for updates. As is, he would win gold at Japanese Nationals as a junior. I’ve had a look at the competition, Lilia, he’d likely even medal even at the JGPF events if he were eligible as a junior for the next season. He’s _nine_. He’s nine and everyone is talking about the Olympics and his junior and senior debut.” It came out like a torrent of words, incoherent and gasped as she poured out her heart.

“Almost everything he does is about skating. To him, dance is a way to improve skating. He loves it, he does and it shows, but it all comes second to his dreams on the ice. In school he’s so far ahead that it scares even the teachers sometimes and by this rate he’ll be starting high school next year. Again, Lilia, he’s _nine_.”

Finally, the older woman cut in. “ _Does he have friends?_ ”

“Yes, three close ones and an older sister. They are tight,” Minako sighed, relieved. “Though two of them also skate. The third is the only one he does other things with more often. All of them are older than he is too.”

“He’s giving it his all,” Minako whispered into her phone, the words flowing from her mouth without conscious direction. “And I’m so very afraid that it will consume him. I’ve had to forbid him from going to the rink alone after I caught him practicing figures late one night and that was only because his parents called me in hysterics about how they’d lost him. The worst thing is how reasonable he was about it, because he refrained from trying jumps or anything else even remotely dangerous. Then there’s how he’s minding what he eats because he wants to stay in top form and he’s on the ice as often as he can and when he’s not at school or at my studio he’s helping his parents run their business.”

The lack of reply on the other end turned into another pause, though this one felt heavier somehow. “ _Does he have a hobby?”_

She shook her head, a habit not broken even when using a telephone. “No, he skates, and he dances. He enjoys being with his friends, but they don’t do anything specific often enough to call it a hobby.”

“ _Find him one, then._ ” The older woman interrupted, voice curt and edged with a sense of finality. “ _Something he’ll like. Make him do it too._

“Like what?” The aging ballerina despaired. “He’ll treat anything physical either as a risk to his skating _or_ as a ‘nice way to complement it’. And if it’s not beneficial to his skating he’s likely to disregard it in favour of helping out his parents with their business or doing homework. Any non-skating related fun is very low on his list of priorities, Lilia, he just doesn’t find it important, especially if it’s a solo activity.”

She took a breath before going on. “He’s leagues ahead of everyone else and yet I can’t seem to get it in his head that taking a break isn’t some vile, forbidden sin that will cost him his skills. Do you want to know the worst thing?”

From thousands of kilometres away, Lillia hummed in confirmation.

“He has this philosophy, Lillia, that if he doesn’t train like a madman then he not only hasn’t earned his victory, but he’s somehow also let _the other skaters_ down. It’s madness, but it’s the cornerstone of his beliefs. He thinks it’s disgraceful to win without giving it a full one-hundred percent.”

“ _That’s also a good thing. He is respectful of his competition._ ” Lillia commented, voice dry.

Minako sighed, _again_ , and resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of her nose. “I have the JSF calling me about how they already want to lock him down for the Olympics, Lillia. He’s _that good_. There isn’t just a gap between him and the others, it’s a canyon, an ocean, a _galaxy_. If there’s a curve, he’s ahead of it. If there’s a record, he’s breaking it. You know how they just implemented the new scoring system?”

Another hum came from the other end of the conversation.

“Well, he’s consistently breaking his own records every single time he steps on the ice. There’s people calling him Cannonball Katsuki for blowing his own records out of the water every competition, others seem stuck on Hurricane Yuuri.”

It made her chest clench uncomfortably every time she heard the nicknames, let alone how her heart ached when she uttered them herself. Yuuri was not a cannonball, not a hurricane. He was a boy, flesh and blood and a soulful gaze with soft skin that guarded a spirit so sharp it cut (so thin, she was afraid it’d break). He was the delicacy of en pointe work, the fragility of glass and the determination of blood and bruises and long nights working to achieve the unattainable.

“ _Get him a camera._ ” The order cut through her mind’s lament. “ _And send him out. Have his friends accompany him, ask him to shoot specific things ‘for you’ if he proves stubborn. It’ll get him outside, is physically undemanding and can be done with company. Let him_ pour _his soul in his skating and dancing but let him_ find _it in his own art and the beauty of the world around him._ ”

Lilia paused for a bit. “ _If that doesn’t work, make him paint, play chess or fold origami. As long as it is low in physical effort and has the possibility of being a shared activity. Let the boy birdwatch, if that’s what he ends up liking.”_

The revelation was accompanied by a gasp, the idea lighting up inside her mind and driving the constricting feeling in her bosom away. This could work, she realised, it could work!

“You’re a genius,” Minako breathed, “a _genius_. Lilia, thank you! Thank you so, so much. I’m in your debt.”

* * *

Being on the ice was the closest a human could ever come to flying, Miki had decided that this was true ages ago. Even knowing that girls didn’t usually get to perform quads the way boys would be able to when they got older didn’t detract from her belief. Her first jump years ago had shown her how to stretch her wings and ever since she’d lamented the time spent on solid ground. Skating gave her those wings and her own determination made her lift off and _soar_.

Losing made her plummet to the ground faster than a sack of bricks.

Mommy and daddy didn’t mind, they supported her anyway, always. Hiro-sensei never seemed too bothered, always focussing on what she did right rather than wrong when she didn’t take first place at a competition. In her mind, Miki knew that she was loved and supported no matter how she performed.

In her heart, the shame and disappointment only grew because she let down people whose unconditional support she had. How bad was she when she couldn’t even win with such an amazing, dedicated team behind her? Some people didn’t have a daddy like hers that worked super hard and could pay for all her extra lessons, or a mommy and a nanny that drove her around to practice and competitions whenever she had one. She did, and still she _couldn’t win_.

So sometimes her skates felt like lead and her jumps like leaps off a cliff, plummeting into the dark waves beneath her. It made her surprised when her daddy told her that she was invited to the summer training camp again, the one for _good_ and _promising_ young skaters. Which she wasn’t, not always.

She was lacing up her skates on the first day when she saw him again, having missed him at orientation and the welcome meal earlier. He looked the same, blue glasses and black hair and brown eyes that seemed to shine like the sun (somehow, which was weird because the sun wasn’t brown _at all_ ).

Yuuri extended a hand, smiling. It lit up the rink, nevertheless, making the harsh fluorescent lights on the ceiling seem like weakly flickering candles in comparison.

“Hi Miki-chan, long time no see!”

Mumbling a reply, Miki finished with her laces and stepped onto the ice. Yuuri skated around her, silent for a second, before he grasped her hand.

“Come on, let’s skate together.”

There was a flash of something in his eyes that Miki couldn’t decipher, but she let him pull her across the rink anyway. When he pulled her in a wobbly circle around him with an exaggerated flourish and copied her steps when they skated next to each other, she couldn’t stop the nervous giggle.

“Yuuri-kun, we’re not pair skaters!” Her own wide eyes watched his unreadable ones.

Her friend shrugged, skating up to get closer. “I know, but who says we can’t skate together anyway? It always looks like fun.”

He circled around her, form smooth and graceful before he came to a stop. “Let’s have fun, Miki-chan.”

Together they criss-crossed the rink, trying to match their strides and synch their steps. They counted down towards their spins, laughing and grinning when they managed to make them at least _feel_ as if they’d done them simultaneously and laughing even louder when they didn’t. She let Yuuri goad her into a double loop, saw him cheer for her even when she had to touch the ice to keep her balance on the landing.

Eventually Jun-sensei and Hana-sensei called them back over to the side of the rink when their personal warm-up time was over. Once she and Yuuri had put their skate-guards on and sat down on the benches lining the rink, Hana-sensei came over with a wide grin.

“Getting into pair-skating now, Miki-chan?” The young woman said with a wink, ruffling her pigtails. “You and Yuuri-kun looked really cute out there, did you have fun?”

Her feet still felt weightless, as did her heart. Even its steady ba-dump in her chest couldn’t seem to ground it, so the grin that threatened to split her cheeks came naturally. As did her answer.

“I had lots of fun!”

Yuuri turned at her loud declaration and if Miki ever wanted to switch to pair-skating, then she would only want to skate with the boy that smiled like a sun.

* * *

Takeshi watched the butterfly, wings opening and closing as it drank from the flower in was perched on. The two were equally vibrant and it made a pretty picture, so he lifted his camera up and prepared to snap it.

_Click. Click._ Went the shutter, snapping the picture. His mom would like that one, he reckoned. She was a fan of butterflies. Yuuko too. Peering at the image on the screen, he smiled down at the tiny view of the pictures he’d just taken. It really did look nice.

_Click_.

He turned to see the lens of Yuuri’s big silver camera pointed at him, rather than at the butterfly. His smile turned into a fond grin.   
  
“Yuuri-kun,” he called, exasperated. “Stop taking pictures of _me_! Try taking them of the butterfly-”

Takeshi turned around, arm pointing at where he’d last seen the flying insect, only to see that the flower was bare. Empty. The butterfly was gone.

The smile on Yuuri’s lips was slight when he finally lowered his camera and it stopped obscuring his face.

“I like photographing memories more than just nature,” the younger boy eventually said, looking away from Takeshi to gaze up at the cloudy sky. “You and me, here, today.”

They trekked on for a while, the wilderness surrounding Hasetsu not so much wild as it was carefully tended to and littered with meticulously maintained paths for the ‘optimal nature relaxation’ walks that some of the elderly that frequented the community centre went on. One such group was on their walk, grey-haired men and women in brightly coloured jackets and carrying walking sticks ambling down the path at a surprisingly brisk pace.

_Click._

Takeshi watched Yuuri photograph the group of hikers, waving when some of them waved at him first. They didn’t stop though, their guide marching on, but even from the distance between them he could see their smiles.

Yuuri’s answering smile was almost wistful as he gazed at where the herd of grandma’s and grandpa’s had vanished into the shadows beneath the trees. Feeling lucky, Takeshi raised his own camera and snapped a candid. His younger friend either didn’t notice or chose to ignore it, eyes still locked on the path in front of them.

“Must be nice,” Yuuri murmured, almost (but not quite) too soft for Takeshi to hear. “To grow old that way.”

It was a bit weird of him to say that, but he had long since gotten used to Yuuri’s occasional odd melancholic comments. It was as much a character trait as his blasted stubbornness and his inability to concede defeat when playing games. His friend was a bit of an odd duck, but he liked him fine that way.

_Speaking of ducks_ , the brightly coloured bird with its orange and green feathers stood out among the lush greenery. Yuuko would like that one too, he reckoned as he readied his camera.

* * *

Hiroko watched her son chatter on the phone with a fond smile. He’d been back from that summer skating camp for some weeks now and it seemed as if his friend was determined to rack up their phone bill for the month. Not that she minded, anything to keep her son laughing the way he did when the two spoke.

“How is Miki-chan?” She asked once Yuuri hung up and placed the phone back in its cradle.

The smile on his face was content as he relayed his friend’s news to her. “Hiro-sensei said she’s improving, and she agrees! Miki-chan has some problems with her confidence sometimes so it’s very good to hear her agree with praise she’s given. She also says that she misses me a lot and wants to come visit.”

That made Hiroko chuckle. For all her son’s virtues he had the most peculiar taste in friends. They, for some reason, tended to display some form of obsessiveness that might be cute in little children, but she dearly hoped would fade by the time they became adults.

Nevertheless, she filed the comment away and paid it no mind. Yuuri left to help Toshiya with sweeping the porch while she was called off to start preparing dinner. Once they and their few guests had been fed, her children put to bed, she settled in next to her husband to watch some television before calling it a night themselves.

The phone ringing cut through the soft sounds of the daily news. Toshiya was the one to answer and minutes later he came back.

“Who was it?” Hiroko queried, turning to face him.

Her husband took a while to answer. “That little friend of Yuuri’s, the girl?”

“Yuuko-chan? Why would she be calling at this hour, it’s past her bedtime.”

Toshiya shook his head. “No, the one from skating camp. I believe I just talked to her mother and they want to come over for a whole week. Her, her husband and their daughter, their nanny _and_ the girl’s coach. Apparently, the thought of not seeing our Yuuri until the next camp was too great.”

Hiroko choked on air, coughing a bit before she could get another word out. “So, they move their entire household all the way across the country for a playdate?”

“Yes.”

The thought made Hiroko shake her head. Her son’s friends were peculiar indeed.

* * *

The Osa family arrived with enviable efficiency, suitcases sleek and obviously expensive, yet pulled by each member of the family themselves rather than by the driver that had dropped them off or the sharp-eyed nanny tagging along.  The odd one out of the glamorous bunch had to be the coach, being of obvious western descent with his messy brown hair and watery blue eyes. Mari would have thought him good-looking if it weren’t for the hideous tracksuit the man seemed to live in.

“Mark Fletcher,” he introduced himself to her family in surprisingly solid Japanese. “But you can call me Coach.”

Her mom hadn’t even flinched and gone along with his demand; hospitality smile ever-present on her face. “Of course, please follow me and I’ll show you all to your rooms.”

The adults left and Mari scanned the room for the daughter that had arrived with them, but her search came up empty. There was no sign of Osa Miki, but Mari wasn’t stupid. She wasn’t smart like Yuuri either, but she was far from dumb. She knew where his little girlfriend could be found, and she’d bet it was within touching distance of her little brother.

She disapproved on principle, of course. Nine was way too young, the girl herself was ten already. Such a cougar. So, off she went to save her innocent little genius brother from the clutches of evil.

“Get away from-” the words died in her mouth when she finally spotted the two, out in the little garden behind the baths.

Her brother’s little face was glowing, mouth curved into a content smile as he listened to the other girl chat. She was waving her arms around wildly and several wrapped packages lined the grass around her feet. An audible laugh even escaped Yuuri’s mouth at something Mari couldn’t catch, though it must have been funny.

Somehow, leaving them be felt like a better decision than roasting the girl over a roaring fire and demanding to know her intentions regarding her brother. She could do that some other time, for sure.

* * *

Letting Miki meet Takeshi and Yuuko might have been both the best and worst decision in Minako’s life. Correction, the worst decision was letting her precious little skater ever come in contact with the crazed American that had dragged along with his charge.

But still, the unholy trio of children currently chasing each other up and down the rink while screeching madly only reinforced Minako’s decision not to have any of her own. She loved them, certainly, but she was counting the hours until their parents came and took them away, so she’d be left to her own (quiet) devices.

“They’re great friends to have,” Yuuri piped up, coming up from behind her. “I’m very glad they all get along too.”

The smile came unbidden, because he was right. They might be loud, rambunctious kids (and messy and smelly and overall decidedly childish as children were wont to be) but they were Yuuri’s friends. Yuuri, whom she worried about and who she wanted to drag out of his shell forcefully on some days.

“I think skating is more fun when I can share it,” he continued. “Not that I want to go into pair-skating, just … I’m all alone on the ice, skating by myself. Sometimes I forget that I’m not, that I have you, Minako-sensei, and everyone else cheering me on from the side-lines. Even if you aren’t all on the ice with me, you are still by my side. But I still treasure days like today when you really are all skating with me.”

Yuuri’s smile turned impish, “even if you still won’t put on skates. But, Minako-sensei, I think I’ve found a way to solve that issue.”

And off he was, taking his skate guards off and gliding away on the ice. Minako was still thinking about his parting words when a purple-clad monstrosity came at her, waving madly.

“Hello, Minako-san! To skate or not to skate, that is the question! But don’t you worry, I have to answer to almost all of life’s questions. Now, let’s get started. I’m going to take great care of you!” ‘Coach’ sang, dragging her away from where she was leaning on the padding lining the ice.

The man’s bared teeth were as garishly bright as his awful tracksuit and from across the rink she could see her precious (devilish) student shoot her a thumbs up.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for the long delay. I'm in the process of getting a second master's degree *and* I've applied for a PhD position (which I won't get, but even the application process takes time and effort). It takes a lot of effort to switch between 'formal academic language' to 'creative writing' and as I'm currently halfway through writing my thesis I oftentimes can't afford to let myself get out of that 'research' mentality. Nevertheless, have a chapter of the one fic that takes me the least mental effort to write. Hope you all enjoy it :)
> 
> I also hope that everyone stays safe and healthy in these scary days.


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